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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384510">A Pear Tree?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairybog/pseuds/fairybog'>fairybog</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Backwards Bois Reverse Au Stuff [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, bc why not, its fun!, reverse au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:36:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,140</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairybog/pseuds/fairybog</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>it starts, as usual, with a garden being vacated. an angel and a demon watch from the wall.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Backwards Bois Reverse Au Stuff [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>a while back my discord friends gently bullied me into developing a reverse omens au and have been very supportive and enthusiastic about my bois since, so i'm having a lot of fun. asked to put it here, so here it goes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Wow," the Angel said, quite unintentionally. The Demon was… not at all what he had expected, in as much as he'd allowed his imagination to run away from him on the subject. The Demon was.. was… rather pretty, all things considered, spiraled horns curving gracefully around his ears, silver hair and pearlescent wings, soft looking hands folded behind his back.  The Angel reveled momentarily in the fact the thought did not cause his halo to burn against his throat.</p>
<p>"Excuse me?" the Demon said, politely, though he wore an incredibly confused look on his round face. His ice blue eyes were wide, horizontal pupils strikingly apparent.</p>
<p>"I said 'wow'," the Angel repeated, in almost precisely the same breathless tone of voice. The Demon nodded and smirked to himself, and the Angel itched to touch him. How odd.</p>
<p>"I thought you had," he said, sending a sly wink the Angel's direction, which the Angel appropriately shrugged off. "You're not so awful yourself."</p>
<p><em> Shows what you know, </em> the Angel thought, slightly unkindly. He reprimanded himself almost immediately for it and looked back out toward the desert, where a very pregnant Eve was cheering on Adam in his fight with a large, hungry looking bear.</p>
<p>"Where did he even find a flaming battleaxe?" the Angel muttered under his breath. The demon tensed ever so slightly beside him, flapping a hand about as he choked on words that wouldn't come. The Angel allowed himself a smug upwardly quirked lip before he chanced another glance to the right. The Demon looked rather flustered. It was fetching.</p>
<p>His neck itched and he quelled the thought as best as could, banishing the lingering stench of unwarranted deja vu along with it.</p>
<p>"Well.. it just- I-" the Demon stammered, before huffing primly and tossing his <em> (big </em>, the Angel caught himself thinking) horns in a show of derision that did not match the tone of his voice. "What was I supposed to do, just let them wander off into the desert with lions and tigers and bears-" This part of the sentence was punctuated with a deep roar and a shout from Adam, who was swinging the axe wildly in the face of the beast circling him and his expectant mate. "Oh, my…"</p>
<p>The Angel snorted and his clipped wings fluttered in amusement. "Yes, I rather imagine you were."</p>
<p>"Well, if I was prone to doing what I was supposed to, I imagine I'd make a very poor demon, indeed."</p>
<p>There was no bitterness, no edge, no acid to the words. No venom spit his direction, no anger to be found. The Angel swallowed audibly around the memories fighting to surface regardless.  His halo felt tight.</p>
<p>"How, I wonder," the Demon mused, looking very proud of himself indeed for the thought and nearly grinning as he cast a sidelong glance to his left, "did the poor dears ever think to try one of those pears?"</p>
<p>He was rewarded with the sight of the Angel beside him balking, growing pale in the face and turning to stare at him with abject horror painted across his (incredibly open and expressive, and very pretty) face. His golden opal eyes were wide with apprehension as he stammered his way over an aborted series of beginner consonants before finally mumbling something that sounded an awful lot like 'gave it to them'.</p>
<p>"What was that, dear?" the Demon prompted needlessly. The Angel growled, low in his throat, before answering.</p>
<p>"I gave it to them. Well, not <em> gave it </em> gave it, just," here he made some flutter-y gesture with his hands, and the Demon eyed his long elegant fingers with unabashed interest. "I knocked one out of the tree and before I could <em> do anything </em> about it, she'd picked it up and taken a bite." The Demon pursed his lips, feigning disbelief as the Angel ran his hands through his long red hair and pulled it back, dropped it, pulled it back again. He had a nice jawline. Something dark flickered through the Angel's eyes, the fire in them shifting from sunny yellow to a deeper honey color, and his face became drawn as he plunged into whatever mental spiral he'd just been thrown into. "I just… I don't understand what's <em> wrong </em> with asking questions."</p>
<p>Well, that seems to ring a distant bell.</p>
<p>The Demon laughs, just a tinkling little titter, and the Angel hides his face in his hands as Adam finally strikes true on the bear with a red wet sound. "What's your name?"</p>
<p>"Sorry?"</p>
<p>"Your name?"</p>
<p>"Shouldn't you give yours first?"</p>
<p>"Astraphel."</p>
<p>Well. That was simple. Either the demon didn't know how much power could be in a name freely given or didn't care enough to hand his over. The thought he wasn't considered enough of a threat to protect himself should've rankled. Instead the thought made the Angel feel a little warm, to be trusted so easy.</p>
<p>To be trusted at all.</p>
<p>"So," Astraphel said, ice blue eyes sparkling. "Yours?"</p>
<p>"Not really supposed to just <em> hand those over </em>, you know?"</p>
<p>Astraphel laughed again. The ever darkening sky seemed only to emphasize his eyes, and the Angel cursed himself under his breath for being unable to look away, for being enough of a fool to try to climb into a tree with newly clipped wings and a poor sense of balance, for that last star he'd had his hands on that he couldn't seem to fuse from two into one. He didn't register how much he'd been saying out loud, or that the rain had started in earnest, until there was a soft <em> whomp </em> and he was standing, dumbstruck, under a silverblue wing.</p>
<p>"What are you doing?"</p>
<p>"Well, grumblegripe," Astraphel said, kindly enough to throw the Angel for the eighth time in as many minutes. "You would've gotten wet. What happened to your wings?"</p>
<p>"That's a bit personal, don't you think?" the Angel says, before remembering what he was just called. </p>
<p>"You really <em> don't </em> see anything wrong with questions, do you?"</p>
<p>"'Grumblegripe'?" the Angel grumbled, gripily.</p>
<p>"You won't tell me your name, and 'angel' seems awfully reductive," Astraphel says, choosing to ignore a completely irrational twinge of sadness at the notion. The Angel sighs, but takes a step closer under his wing regardless. "So I'm going to call you grumblegripe until you provide me an alternative I enjoy more. You do blush such a lovely color."</p>
<p>Astraphel was admiring the color to the Angel's cheeks at the nickname, and preened a bit under both the glare the comment earned him and the rise in the flush. What fun. </p>
<p>The Angel shakes out his long red curls again and makes another of those intriguing little throat noises. "Why do you do that?"</p>
<p>"Do what, dear boy?"</p>
<p>"Say.. shit like that?"</p>
<p>"'Shit'?" Astraphel laughs again at the curse. He didn't think that was <em> allowed </em>. "Do you think I'm complimenting you for laughs?"</p>
<p>"I can't imagine you doing it authentically." The Angel toys with something around his throat that glints like stardust and looks a bit too tight.</p>
<p>"I should be offended. I wouldn't bother if I didn't mean it." Astraphel sniffs dismissively, though all things considered he supposes he shouldn't begrudge the Angel his caution. Not so soon, at least. He knows a fair few of Hell's denizens remain <em> properly pissed </em>at the turn of events. "Well then, grumblegripe," he says specifically to watch the Angel's reaction. The deeply exasperated roll of those honey opal eyes does not disappoint. "How long, do you think, before the Garden is deemed totally off-limits?"</p>
<p>"Why?" The Angel asks, reaching a curious hand out from under the cover of the wing to catch a few drops of rain and watch them trickle from the tips of his fingers. It's such an innocent sort of inspection, all bright eyes and bated breath, that it surprises Astraphel into momentarily losing his train of thought.</p>
<p><em> Goodness </em> , he thinks, softer than he'd thought himself capable. <em> Why are you down here? Surely Heaven could still use some of that tenderness? </em></p>
<p>It isn't until those eyes are locked quizzically onto his face that he realizes he hasn't yet answered the question.</p>
<p>"Oh," Astraphel says, watching the Angel's face carefully and delivering his best smirk for flourish. "I hear the pears are simply <em> divine </em>." </p>
<p>To his credit the Angel smiles a little at the joke, just a barely there uptwitch of the corners of his mouth, and he meets the smirk with an arched brow that betrays his interest. As good as won, this fight. </p>
<p>"Aren't you curious?" Astraphel purrs, and he begins a mental count of how long the Angel can hold out. "What's so wrong with asking questions, right?"</p>
<p>The Angel seems, to Astraphel's surprise, to consider this instead of flying into a righteously fueled fury at the implication. He can almost watch the deliberation in real time with the way the lights dance back and forth and back again in his eyes as he stares forward into the rain, gaze darting occasionally Heavenward. There's a nervous flash across the Angel's face and the flutter of some protective sort of minor miracle around them both, another pleasant surprise, and then…</p>
<p>"We'll, ah," the Angel starts, then hesitates, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment. "We'll have to walk?" His voice shakes when he says it, the inquisitive lilt more pronounced with the waver.</p>
<p><em> Please don't ask again, </em> the Angel thinks, hoping the plea is coming through his eyes and that this demon is actually as clever and polite as he seems. <em> I know what I said, but please… </em></p>
<p>He does not, currently, possess the strength of spirit to explain to the recently Fallen that he'll never fly again. He's forgotten once or twice himself, so new is the mutilation of his wings, and every reminder has been humiliating and painful enough without the added bonus of ammunition freely offered to the opposition.</p>
<p>Not that Astraphel has, to now, shown much if any malicious intent. Not that that means anything, either. He could just be better at his job.</p>
<p>Astraphel does cock his head in response, and for one horrifying moment it looks like the question is balanced on the tip of his tongue, held just behind the puzzled purse of his lips, and the Angel begins steeling himself for whatever will come after. But he doesn't ask. The Angel can see the moment Astraphel puts it together, and the genuine sympathy in his expression almost hurts to look at. That deja vu sensation is back, something poking around in the back of the Angel's mind and trying to surface before sinking down again.</p>
<p>"Then we'd best get going. Shall we?" Astraphel says, polite as you please, and takes the lead down into the newly vacated Eden. His steps are sure and his pace brisk as he heads dead center, and the Angel follows a step and a half behind. Just in case. They walk at a comfortable pace through to the middle of the Garden, Astraphel rambling on in a way that might’ve been annoying were it anyone else. As it stands the Angel finds himself grateful for a rhythmic break in the silence. The rain patters gently against the leaves and grass, and the creatures left to roam the Garden regard it in a curious way that makes the Angel’s mood lift a little.<br/><br/>Astraphel plucks two pears from the Tree and wastes no time in offering it to his companion, as if to avoid a mind change. The Angel chuckles and sits cross legged beneath the Tree, looking up into its leaves and taking a nonchalant bite. It’s sweet, has a nice half-crunch texture and the juice leaves a pleasant aftereffect. They chew in silence, watch the rain around them. Nothing happens; perhaps whatever effect they had was gotten rid of when Adam and Eve took them, or it just doesn’t work on Angels? The Angel feels no different, has no more knowledge of anything than the taste of a pear, no new amount of judgement or insight. <br/><br/>The Angel looks up at Astraphel during a bite, chews thoughtfully for a few seconds, and decides. <br/><br/>“Caelum,” he says quietly, forcing himself to keep his gaze up. Astraphel turns and gives him a smile. <br/><br/>“What’s that?” <br/><br/>“My name? Caelum,” he says, staring straight into those ice blue eyes and wondering why he doesn’t feel nervous about this. He takes another bite of the pear and Astraphel raises his in a mock-salute before taking one himself. <br/><br/>“A pleasure, Caelum,” Astraphel says genuinely. <br/><br/>Caelum nods, not quite willing to agree out loud in fear of being heard, eating the fruit from the tree with a demon like they hadn’t just ensured the garden’s ruin so fluidly it’s difficult to believe it wasn’t conspired between them. Astraphel accepts with a grin, though, and they finish their pears smiling, watching the rain.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. make 'em laugh</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>somethingsomething the seeds of its own destruction, right?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Once, foolishly, Astraphel had made a promise to an angel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You know, grumblegripe," he had said over a cup of very thin wine. "One day I'm going to make you laugh."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caelum had thrown him a Look then, a complicated mixture of disapproval for the nickname and something softer, almost apologetic. The Look and the uncomfortable flurry of gentle feeling it stirred had been deftly sidestepped. "You do make me laugh, though?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astraphel shook his head. He'd heard Caelum snort, and scoff, and even chuckle, once, though it had been an angry, dark sound at the time. He'd been the cause of several gasps, sighs, and strained gurgled series of frustrated consonants when they bickered. They conversed easily enough, but that wasn't what he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span>. "No, no. I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> laugh." Caelum had raised an inquisitive eyebrow and Astraphel knew he had him. A challenge and a curiosity would always be the angel's weakness. "You know, deep. Makes your sides hurt, tears to your eyes, can't breathe sort of laugh."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why would I want that?" Caelum asked, lips quirked upward into an intrigued smirk. Astraphel shot one back and refilled their cups, not bothering to hide the way he eyed the long line of Caelum's throat as he took a single, too-deep draw. An angel who drinks like a fish, Astraphel had said once, to deflect from the way Caelum's headlong dive into various mischief had been instantly endearing. Caelum had taken the bait, and given some snort of self-deprecating challenge, and Astraphel had wondered what he sounded like happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't say I was doing it </span>
  <em>
    <span>for</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, did I? Much more of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>to</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, really." Astraphel had taken a slow pull from his cup and watched Caelum consider this through his eyelashes. The fire in his opal eyes danced back and forth as he tossed the thought around in his head, and Astraphel had to force himself not to stare so hard it shifted from intentional flattery to dumbstruck creeping. "Besides, part of the experience, wouldn't you say? The humans love laughing."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caelum grinned at that, and offered his left hand. "Well then we'll see, won't we?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astraphel shook, and sealed his fate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They met again in Rome, angel and demon both in a sour mood, and bickered their way amicably enough to a better tavern. Several jugs later and a few sheets to the wind they'd left, Astraphel leading Caelum with a strong grip around the wrist down streets and out into the night, trying to get him to talk about the stars. Caelum had resisted, smilingly, and one over enthusiastic attempt to escape the fiend's clutches had sent Astraphel down into a suspiciously deep, miraculously isolated mud puddle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sputtering, covered in dark muck and losing the hold on the glamour for his horns, Astraphel glared up at Caelum, who was frozen in the wake of his gaze. There was a long, silent moment before Astraphel shook his dripping horns, tipped his heavy head back and let a loud, pitiful wail of "</span>
  <em>
    <span>WHY</span>
  </em>
  <span>!?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caelum lost it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He bent at the waist, clutching his sides and howling with barks of unfettered laughter. It was inelegant, gasping and drunk and utterly unbefitting of a symbol of the Grace of God, who was sinking to his knees in the grass and trying to offer a hand to the demon even though he could hardly see through the tears spilling from his eyes, red curls curtained around a flushed face and a dopey grin, entire body convulsing. Astraphel smacked his hand away and stood up, causing Caelum to throw his head back and cackle anew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I-I'm so- I- oh, I- that-" the angel tried, and failed over and over, to apologize, nearly falling into his own trap from the tremors of glee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astraphel was soaked, sticky, and by all rights should have been infuriated that he'd spent the money he had on this fabric the day it was apparently destined to meet a roadside pitfall. Instead, he was soaked, sticky, and utterly entranced.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caelum's laughter had finally begun to subside a bit, breath coming more easily as he tried to regain his composure. His hands were still shaking as he wiped the corners of his eyes, face colored prettily by the flush to his cheeks and illuminated the moon. When he looked to Astraphel and snapped the muck from his clothes his eyes were fiercely aglow, smile wider than Astraphel had ever seen. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So that's what joy looks like on you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You- you win, I suppose?" Caelum said as he rose on shaky legs from the ground, grinning. "I see now."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you?" Astraphel asked blankly, hardly breathing, and Caelum caught sight of his expression. He wasn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he certainly wasn't joining in, and he realized too late he had never gone this still in front of the angel before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All mirth drained from Caelum's mood, replaced by apprehension. "H-hey, I'm sorry. It- I just-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astraphel forced a smile through the mounting horror of realization at his folly. "Don't be. I was… surprised, is all. Surprised." Caelum didn't look convinced, but Astraphel didn't trust himself to elaborate further without making an idiot of himself. "Thank you for miracling it away."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Did.." Caelum begins, pulling his hair back and letting it fall in front of his eyes in that self conscious fidget Astraphel wanted desperately to break him of, but was beginning to suspect he'd miss were he to succeed. Caelum gestured vaguely upwards towards the sky, and the lights pulsed in time with the movement of his hand. "Did you still want to hear about those stars?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well," the demon said haughtily, tossing his horns for the chance to preen at the way Caelum never seemed able to look away from them and right his personal compass back towards </span>
  <em>
    <span>suave</span>
  </em>
  <span>. "I did win, after all."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caelum's smile returned, and Astraphel internally blessed himself into next Sunday.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>don't you love it when a flirt does themselves in?</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>we started in eden, but it probably won't be very linear from here out. gonna post them in the order they're written most likely, and you can imagine what dates match up where, haha.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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